Band-aids
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: Oneshot written for the NFA Nepal charity auction. Tim-centered. Sometimes, even when band-aids can't help, they do help.


**A/N:** And another NFA Nepal charity auction oneshot. This one is based on a lyric from "Bad Blood" by Taylor Swift: "Band-aids don't fix bullet holes."

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS or its characters. I'm not making money off this story. Too bad. :)

* * *

 **Band-aids  
** by Enthusiastic Fish

...and slowly, the world began to come into focus again.

That focus was violently punctuated by pain.

Then, he realized that the focus was only with respect to vision. He seemed to have gone deaf.

He was very much aware of his own body.

He could feel himself breathing heavily.

He could feel his heart pounding like a hammer against his ribs.

He could feel something hot and sticky.

...and he could feel a hand on his arm.

He could feel pressure on the center of the pain.

Then, he could see something.

No, he could see some _one_.

"B-Boss," he whispered.

He could hear the word inside his head, but not outside.

If there was a response to the word, he didn't hear it.

"Boss," he said again.

"You're all right."

Finally, he was hearing something. It was patently a lie, but he was at least hearing again.

"N-No," he said.

"Tim, look at me."

He moved his eyes around until he found Gibbs.

"You're fine."

"No."

Things started to go fuzzy again.

"Stay with me, McGee."

His vision cleared slightly. He realized that he was actually sitting up. He wasn't lying down.

 _What am I leaning against?_

As if his body had just made the same realization, he started to slump to one side.

He felt himself being pulled back up, but his head was too heavy and it flopped over.

"Can you hear me?"

He thought that he nodded.

"Help is on the way. You're going to be fine."

He was skeptical, actually. He needed something to fix whatever was wrong.

"Band-aids," he whispered.

"What, Tim?"

"Band-aids. Need...band-aids."

"Not for a bullet."

Suddenly, though, that seemed to be the most important thing. He needed a band-aid.

Where was the first-aid kit? It would have a band-aid in it.

He tried to sit up, tried to move.

"McGee, stay still. What are you doing?"

"Band-aid," he said again.

"Okay. Stay where you are. I'll get you one."

He nodded in agreement and then looked down for the first time.

"That's...a lot...of blood," he said. "Is it...mine?"

Gibbs didn't answer, but he didn't go away, either.

He was supposed to be getting a band-aid!

"Band-aid," he said again.

"Right here, McGee," Gibbs said.

He felt something placed on the back of his hand, and that seemed fine to him.

"Thanks," he breathed.

He wondered how Gibbs had done it. The first-aid kit should be in the car, and he knew he wasn't by the car.

He looked at his hand.

There was a band-aid on it.

"Good," he said.

Then, things started to fade again.

The sound started to fade.

The light started to fade.

In fact, even his heart didn't seem to be hammering quite so much.

That was nice.

Maybe, he could take a nap or something. He was tired.

He started to slide and slump again and his eyes started to close.

 _Thwack!_

He was pulled back up again.

"No, McGee. Stay awake. Stay with me."

Then, Gibbs' head turned away.

"Where is the dang ambulance?"

Was there something else? He was surprised. There was just him and Gibbs and whatever he was leaning against, wasn't there?

Was the world bigger than that?

...and then, he wasn't sitting anymore.

He was lying on something.

He was moving.

"Boss?" he asked.

"Right here, McGee."

"See you."

"I'm here."

There were a lot of sounds, but he couldn't hear them.

Sounds he knew were there, but he couldn't hear? Did that make sense?

Probably not. He kind of thought that it didn't, anyway.

Maybe, the band-aid really wasn't enough.

Maybe, he needed two?

"Band-aid," he said.

There was silence.

"Don't worry, Agent McGee. We'll get you set up with band-aids once we get to the hospital. Just hang on."

He couldn't. He was tired.

His eyes closed.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He started to wake up.

 _When did I fall asleep?_

He tried to move.

He hissed with pain.

 _That was a bad idea._

"Tim?"

He'd heard that voice before, hadn't he?

"I thought he moved. Maybe I was wrong."

"Tim? Are you awake?"

Two voices. He knew them.

Didn't he?

He tried to open his eyes without moving any of the rest of him.

It didn't work. It was too hard.

He lay there.

"Guess not."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He woke up again, and felt more awake.

...but moving still hurt.

"Tim?"

His eyelids lifted for just a moment. He thought about saying something. He thought about directly addressing the person who had spoken.

What came out was a garbled sound.

He opened his eyes again.

He felt someone's hand on his shoulder.

He tried to speak again. At least one word.

"Bossssss?"

"Knew you'd wake up on your own schedule, McGee."

Wake up? What did he mean?

"Mean?"

"Do you remember what happened?"

He tried to think about it.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He woke up.

He opened his eyes.

He saw that it was dark.

He saw Gibbs sitting beside him, asleep in a chair.

"Bosssss. Whater you doingere?" he asked.

The words weren't quite as connected as he wanted them to be, but it was a sentence.

Gibbs sat up.

"Awake again."

"What happened?"

"You got shot."

"I did?"

"Yes."

He considered that idea. Shot.

"A bullet?" he asked.

"Yes, with a bullet. Two, in fact. It was a drive-by shooting."

He tried to think about it. Try as he might, he couldn't summon up anything definitive about that.

...but there _was_ one thing.

"Band-aid?"

Gibbs chuckled.

"That wouldn't have helped much, but we got you some band-aids since you wanted them so bad. Tony went a little overboard." He gestured.

He looked at himself. He had no fewer than ten band-aids on his hands and arms.

"Why?"

"One per day."

He looked at himself again.

"Lot of days," he said.

"Yep."

"I woke up before?"

"Yep. A few times."

"What now?"

"You get better."

"How long?"

"As long as it takes."

He nodded.

"Tired."

"Then, sleep."

"Okay."

He closed his eyes and then, touched the band-aids on his arm with a clumsy hand.

It was better with them.

A hand covered the band-aids on his arm.

And he was glad to know that Gibbs was there.

For now, that was all that mattered.

FINIS!


End file.
